by Donya Lynne
“I didn’t think females liked hearing about the other females who came before them.”
“I’m not like that. I want to hear. She was important to you, and that makes her important to me, because hearing you talk about what you had with her makes me feel closer to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He searched her eyes without finding anything but love gazing back at him. Fine, he would tell her. He turned his attention to the window again. But he wasn’t seeing the city. His vision went far beyond Chicago. Beyond the present.
“She was older than me, a good dancer . . . and she had this laugh that always made me think of angels singing.”
Sam snuggled closer, and he felt her love seep into him as he continued.
He told her of the night of the celebration and of how he left with his father to train for the war, and then how he and his new friend, Malek, returned years later, all grown up.
“I was twenty-six, a far cry from the little boy I’d been when I left fourteen years earlier,” he said, falling into the memory again. “I was a fully transitioned male.”
As had occurred at the end of all the wars before, the vampires and drecks had reached a truce to end the fighting. A truce Micah had known would end sooner rather than later since the war never really seemed to come to an end, despite times of negotiated peace. To believe that permanent peace would result this time was naïve. Maybe the battle was over, but the war was sure to rage on.
But for now, all he wanted was to return home and see Kat again. To show her how much he’d grown. He was as tall as his father now, and his body had filled out, growing both broad and lean. Black scruff covered his cheeks and chin, and his hair had grown long and thick. Most importantly, he now knew how to please a female, and he wanted nothing more than to show Kat all he’d learned.
The moment he, Malek, and his father rode into the clearing just outside their village in the middle of the night, he began searching for her.
In a village inhabited mostly by vampires, nighttime was more active than day, so it didn’t take long for word to spread that they had returned. Excited villagers spilled from their cottages and clogged the narrow cobbled road that curved its way through the village.
But none of them were who he wanted to see.
Then the air stirred. An energy called to him, and he turned away from a group of young maidens he vaguely remembered as little girls. He glanced to his left then pulled his mount to a stop as his mother rose from where she’d been shelling peas. Kat sat beside her.
When his eyes met hers, something inside him quivered. A pulse of excitement stirred his heart, as if a wizard had cast a spell over him. He could tell she felt it, too. He could sense the quickening of her pulse, taste the scent of her aroused blood in the air.
He dismounted and rushed forward, his father on his heels.
“Mother!” He picked his mother up and hugged her before handing her off to his father amid tears and laughter.
Then he faced Kat, drinking in the soft curves of her face. When he’d left fourteen years ago, she’d stood three heads taller than he. Now he towered over her. She gazed at him from under her lashes.
“Little Micah?”
He grinned and closed the distance between them. “I’m not so little anymore.”
Her face flushed as she demurely pressed her fingertips to the base of her neck. “No, I guess not.”
Micah introduced Malek, and then his parents excused themselves and went home. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, and Micah could tell by the gleam in their eyes they needed to be alone.
A group of villagers lit a bonfire in the courtyard, and before he knew it, a small feast had been prepared to celebrate his and his father’s return.
But Micah didn’t so much care about celebrating as he did spending time with Kat, and while Malek danced with every maiden in the village, Micah took Kat’s hand and nodded toward the trees. “Come with me.”
Her cheeks turned rosy as she stood and wrapped both her hands around just one of his. “Where are we going?”
He glanced at the rest of the villagers as they clapped and danced a ring around the bonfire, laughing and making toasts. Then he turned back to gaze into Kat’s eyes. “All this . . . it’s not for me. I want . . .” His gaze dropped to her plump, pink lips. “I want . . .”
“What?”
He dragged his eyes back to hers and tugged her toward him as he took a backward step toward the trees. “Just come with me.”
Her eyes glittered in the firelight as she smiled and bit her bottom lip, and then she relented and allowed him to lead her away from the festivities and into the woods.
When he reached the tree where he’d fed her the tart fourteen years before, he stopped and pulled her to the ground as he sat with his back against the thick trunk.
She sat beside him on folded knees, facing him, and let out a breathy giggle. “Little Micah.” She leaned forward and teased his trimmed beard with her fingernails. “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”
He snagged her hand before she could pull it away and held it within both of his. “You haven’t changed at all.” He lifted one palm to her face. With his fingertips, he brushed back her hair. “You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” He softly ran his fingers down her arm and over the back of her hand.
She shyly ducked her head. “Micah . . .”
His heart skipped at her modesty, and he chuckled as he pushed forward and lifted her hand to his lips. “You always knew I was infatuated with you, didn’t you?” He kissed the backs of her fingers.
She squirmed but scooted closer, eyes downcast, shoulders forward as if shielding herself. “Yes.” She spoke softly.
Her long auburn hair fell over her face again, and he pushed it back so he could watch her as he kissed her fingers. Her lashes fluttered then closed, her lips parting. Her shoulders rose as she drew in her breath.
He let his lips linger and play over her knuckles before drawing away and lowering her hand to his lap.
“In the years I’ve been gone,” he said, “my affection for you has remained.”
Her eyes flickered open, and she cast a daring, hopeful glance toward him. “It has?”
He nodded. “It’s grown even stronger.” He caressed her wrist and delicate forearm. “Not a day has gone by in fourteen years that I didn’t think about you.” He cupped her face in his palm. A palm that had grown in size and strength since she’d last seen him and had become rough from wielding a sword before his transition. Training for hours every day had taken its toll, and even though a transitioned adult couldn’t develop calluses, an untransitioned youth could. And those calluses remained. But she didn’t seem to mind as she bent her neck and pressed her cheek more firmly against his touch. “All I wanted was to return home so I could see you again.”
She shyly bowed her head. “I always thought you were a special little boy, but I never imagined . . .” She shifted and shook her head uneasily then turned away.
He inched closer and leaned forward, bracing his arm over her legs, supporting his weight against the cool ground. “You never imagined what?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. Then she met his gaze. “I never imagined you would grow up to be”—her gaze ranged his face then dropped to his chest—“to be so . . . ”
“So what?”
“So handsome.” She looked away as if embarrassed, which brought a wicked smile to Micah’s lips.
“You find me handsome?”
She giggled and covered her face with her hands as she nodded.
“Why, Katarina, I do believe you’re blushing.”
She laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Little Micah Black, stop teasing me.”
“Teasing you? Me? I would never do such a thing.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she huffed. “You’ve grown to be quite incorrigible, little Micah.”
“Yes, but”—he
trailed his index finger down her arm, silencing her soft laughter with a gasp—“I haven’t forgotten the promise I made to you behind this very tree before I left for the king’s city.” He reached behind him and smacked his palm against the rough bark of the trunk.
She leaned toward him as if challenging him. “Oh, and what promise was that?”
He leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. She sucked in her breath and dropped her gaze to his mouth, but she didn’t pull away.
“I believe I promised to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow.”
He stared into her eyes as she lifted her lashes and met his gaze, the flickering firelight reflecting off the flecks of gold in her green irises. “Yes, I remember.”
“Do you still want to learn?”
She hesitated as hopeful anticipation lit in her expression. Then the corners of her eyes turned up in delight as she smiled. “Now? Tonight?”
He shook his head. “Tomorrow night.”
A ghost of disappointment crossed her features before she brightened once more. “Where?”
“Meet me here just after sundown.”
“Should I bring anything?”
He pressed forward and lightly brushed his lips over hers in a chaste promise. “Just you.”
She appeared surprised but pleased that he’d kissed her, and her cheeks flamed rosy pink.
He led her back to the village, and with a secret glance between them, departed for home.
At sundown the next night, Micah slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder and passed through the village on his way to their tree, his heart beating a wild rhythm. He was going to be with Kat. Beautiful, magical Kat. The female he had pined for over half his life.
She was waiting for him beneath the forest canopy, pacing in the darkness, wearing a modest, moss-green kirtle that shimmered in the moonlight and accented her red hair. She reminded him of a woodland fairy, elegant and magical.
She stopped pacing the moment she saw him, and a relieved but nervous smile broke over her face. “Hi,” she said breathlessly.
It took all his strength not to take her in his arms and cover her mouth with his, but he forced himself to remain an arm’s length away, even as his gaze traveled over her alluring curves.
“Are you ready?” He reached for her hand.
She slid her fingers around his and nodded shyly.
“Then let’s go.”
As he led her through the forest, she clung to his hand and stayed close to his side.
The paths he’d used as a boy still existed, although the forest had thickened in places while thinning in others. But he could have traveled the terrain blindfolded, having spent endless childhood days and nights romping among the trees.
As they strolled hand in hand, they talked about the years he’d been away, how she passed her time reading and tending to the gardens, how homesick he’d been when he first arrived in the king’s city, but how he’d grown into his own person among strangers who later became friends. But it all felt like small talk. Chatter meant to distract them both from the intense attraction growing between them with every step they took.
When they came to a shallow stream, he hoisted her into his arms without a thought.
“Micah!” She yelped and slapped her arms around his neck as he swept her feet out from under her and cradled her against him. “What are you doing?” She laughed as he started across the stream, carefully treading over a slippery path of rocks and boulders, which forced the water to gurgle as it rushed through the narrower passages.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m making sure you get across without getting your feet wet.”
She glanced down at the water. “I’ve crossed streams before, Micah.” Her eyes danced with amusement as she turned back toward him. “I’m sure I could have managed.”
He stopped. “Would you like me to put you down then?” He pretended to loosen his hold.
She let out a squeal and clamped her arms more tightly around his neck, pressing more firmly against him.
“You’re incorrigible, Micah Black!”
He chuckled and continued across. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentlemale if I allowed you to get your hem wet, now would I?”
She sighed and settled into his arms as she flashed him a playfully wicked smirk. “I detest coddling.”
“Then I’ll be sure never to coddle you.”
She rolled her eyes and let out a breathy laugh as he reached the opposite shore and set her down. “I may be a proper female, Micah, but that doesn’t mean I’m a delicate flower.”
His blood heated at her spirited rebelliousness. “Really now? You always seemed like a delicate flower to me when I was a boy.”
She raised her chin and brushed her palms down the top of her skirt. “It might surprise you to know that you’re not the only one who’s changed in the past fourteen years. I’m not the same female I was when you left.”
He drew in a slow, steadying breath, doing his best not to sweep her in for a blazing kiss right then and there. He liked this new, fiery Katarina. The sweetness he remembered from his youth remained, but now he saw a passionate side to her he’d never witnessed before.
“I can see that.” He reached for her hand.
When she didn’t immediately reach for his and instead crossed her arms in a faux, haughty show of impatience, he grinned and lowered his hand to his side as he arched one brow. “Fine. I won’t coddle you.” With an amused snort, he turned and started along the path again. “Follow me then.”
She fell in step behind him then sped her paces to walk alongside him again, and even though she remained silent, Micah could feel her arousal. It clung to her like a wraith, ever present but invisible, its ethereal fingers stroking him and awakening a desire inside him he’d never known. He’d always found Kat beguiling, but now she was overwhelmingly irresistible.
. . . never knew he would grow up to stir my blood so wickedly.
Micah frowned and glanced down at her. He could swear he’d heard her voice, but he was certain she hadn’t actually spoken. “Did you say something?”
She turned a quizzical expression on him. “No.” Her cheeks flushed and she quickly averted her gaze back to the path in front of them.
His eyes . . . the way he looks at me . . . his gaze penetrates my soul as if he can see deep inside my heart. As if he can see how infatuated I’ve become with him.
Again, he heard her voice, but he was looking right at her. Her lips hadn’t moved. No words came from her mouth. And yet . . .
Oh God, what’s happening to me? He’s only been home a day, and already I’m lost to desire and can’t stop fantasizing what it would be like to . . .
Her voice inside his head cut off. That’s when he realized he was hearing her thoughts. But he hadn’t tried to see inside her mind. Her thoughts had magically materialized inside his head without him making any effort to probe for them.
That had never happened before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He glanced at her again, but no more of her words sprang to life inside his head. Not that it mattered. He’d heard enough to know what she was feeling for him. That she was as excited to be alone with him as he was with her.
He smiled to himself, and an instant later, her hand eased around his.
“I thought you weren’t into coddling,” he said, glancing down at their joined hands.
She flashed him a demure but heated glance. “I think I like it when you do it.”
Breathing more easily than he had in over a decade, he secured her hand in his and, a few minutes later, led her into a clearing along a beach bordering the lake where he’d spent so much time fishing and swimming as a youth.
“You’re going to show me how to shoot a bow and arrow here?” She shot him a dubious glance as she let go of his hand and meandered closer to the water.
“Do you doubt me?”
Her laughter flittered in the air like angelic chimes, stealing across the lake’s still, glassy surface. �
�I don’t think I know you well enough to know whether or not I should doubt you.”
Taking his bow from over his shoulder, he pretended to be hurt. “I may have changed since you last saw me, Kat, but I’m still me. My sense of honesty has remained. Only my body has changed.”
Well, a few other things had changed, too, such as his knowledge of a female’s body. Of how a male and female gave each other pleasure. He had become quite skilled in the art of physical intimacy, all in anticipation of one day coming back to his Katarina. He hadn’t wanted to make a fool of himself by fumbling ignorantly over her body, so he’d been quite the student under Mary’s tutelage. And now, here he was, ready to show her all that he’d learned.
Kat tilted her head affectionately. “I’m only teasing, Micah. Of course I don’t doubt you.”
The breeze lifted her hair and wafted her floral scent in his direction, making his pulse race. God, he just wanted to touch her, feel her heat, taste her.
“Good. Then come here.” He chucked his head in a come-here motion.
Her scent strengthened as she drew nearer, and enticing warmth raced down his spine, landing between his legs. Being this close to her was either going to drive him mad with desire or kill him. He withdrew an arrow from his quiver to keep his hands busy so he didn’t grab her and take her to the ground.
“First, the stance.” He turned his back to her to illustrate. She drew nearer and at an angle to peer over his shoulder at what he was doing. He pointed to a tree directly in front of his left shoulder. “See that tree?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what we’re aiming for, so set your feet perpendicular to your sight line, which extends from you to the target.” He planted his feet shoulder-width apart, parallel to one other.
“Like this?” she said.
He glanced behind him. She stood less than an arm’s length away, her eyes gleaming in the scant light of the moon. He tore his gaze away from her lovely face to look at her feet, which peeked out from under the hem of her skirt. They weren’t quite wide enough, but he would fix that later.
“That’s good.” He swiveled his head around to the tree again. “Now . . . stand up straight, rotate your chin so you’re looking over your left shoulder, rotate your hips so they’re tucked under, and push your chest, ribs, and shoulders downward.”
